


What Did The Cannibal Get When He Was Late For Dinner?

by DemonicJack



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, Gore, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-13 16:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18035219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonicJack/pseuds/DemonicJack
Summary: wrote this for a fucked up chick i know, had fun





	What Did The Cannibal Get When He Was Late For Dinner?

Consciousness came slowly, in starts and stops over the length of around twenty hours. You became cognizant of the darkness enveloping the room around you, and the rough metal chains around your body and limbs that scraped the skin raw enough to draw blood. Eventually, you gave up useless struggles. It was another five or so hours before anything new happened, and by then you were literally starving. You felt a familiar hollowness swallow your fear. That's when the lights came on. You were in some place with stone walls, dank and dark, a basement in the middle of nowhere. There was no food in sight, though there was a stove and a freezer so that could possibly be something if you ever managed to get out.

Footsteps approached you, louder and louder. In terror that gripped you instinctually, you struggled, blood running down your forearms from the rough metal against your wrists, scars torn asunder and given new meaning. A man stepped into view. He was smiling playfully, and he winked. "Was waiting for you to wake up, unfortunately got bored of sitting in the dark. Wasted opportunity to frighten you, but you're probably scared anyway, right?" From the folds of his coat, the man drew a knife. The sparse light made it gleam, the steel polished and cared for. "Let's take this slow, I'm really fucking hungry." Before you could scream, he was cutting a slice of meat off of your thigh. The blade went right through with no effort, tearing you like nothing. You bled heavily from your new wound, spattering the concrete that you now noticed was stained with dark fluids. Tears ran down your cheeks as you screamed. Your captor took the meat into a bloody palm, turning on the stove. The room filled with the scent of horrifying, cooking meat. "That smells fucking delicious, right?"

He cooked it expertly, lightly salting the meat and cutting it in two, then picking the smaller of the two slices and dicing it into little cubes. He impaled your meat with a fork, taking the plate over to you. "Open wide, we're having dinner." Your mouth remained closed as he waited several seconds, his bloody hands still dripping like the freely bleeding wound in your leg. That was sure to sting in the morning. "I don't have all night." With a cold expression, he slugged you in the face. There was no anger behind it, if anything a gentle humor that only he understood. Something inside him was broken and he needed to break you to make him feel better about it."Open your mouth." With reluctance, your mouth slowly opened as he jammed the fork inside, letting the cube of meat touch your tongue. It didn't taste bad, but it was horrifying all the same. He was a good cook.

"Yum, right?" He patted you on the back, stuffing his mouth with rare, bloody skinmeat from his piece of the flesh. "Fucking delicious." He fed you another bite. It might have taken hours but by the end you two had cleaned the plate and you were full of your own flesh. The man kissed you gently on the forehead, leaving bloody marks like lipstick. Your wound had clotted by now, and the blood had stopped dripping. Your thighs were covered in the browning hemoglobin. "You aren't bleeding out, so I'll be back when I feel like playing again. Stick around, will you?" He left the room, and the lights went off, leaving you to the sound of your crying and heavy breathing.


End file.
